This is a recollection of my Samadhi experience last year in the morning of my 50th birthday.

Earlier today, I experienced one of the most extraordinary moments of my spiritual journey – a Samadhi unlike any I’ve had before. It lasted longer, felt deeper, and carried with it a vividness and messages that seem to blur the boundaries between vision and reality. I wanted to share it with you while it’s still fresh in my body and memory.

Unlike my past Samadhis, today’s lasted several minutes and began in a dream. At first, it was a warm gathering with family and friends. Because I’ve learned how to stay aware in dreams, I rose out of it while keeping the dream-like state. In that state, I left my body and that’s when the story truly began.

What started as a joyful family scene suddenly turned strange and unsettling. The space felt hostile. Bad people or beings, arrived with harmful intent, and others like me began running, looking for safety.

I moved through a series of connected rooms, almost like climbing a staircase where each doorway led to a higher level. Then, in one of the rooms, I saw him: a boy. Barefooted, his feet were covered with dried mud, and he wore an old, faded beige kurta. But his face was full of light, shining brightly under a thick mess of curly hair. He wasn’t just a boy—he was a boy deva.

The Conversation and Mantras for Protection

He stood there, calm and still, and asked me a question.

“What does Tadasana mean”

In the chaos of the moment, with a sense of danger all around, my first instinct was to protect us. I told him, “We need to hide, we need to run!” But he remained undistracted. His gaze held mine, and he asked again, gently but insistently, “What does Tadasana mean?”

The word “mountain” came to my mind, so I told him that. He then took my left hand and said, “Come. Sit with me. Let’s chant the Soham.”

So we sat together on the stairs, even as the tension grew. I could hear the “bad people” approaching, yet I stayed. I trusted him.

As we began chanting “Soham,” something remarkable happened. A vibration filled the room, and it crawled into my body – electric and alive. My right hand naturally formed Gyan Mudra, and the energy concentrated in my chest. There was pressure but no pain, only presence. We continued, chanting in rhythm:

Soooo… Hammm… Soooo… Hammm…

My eyes were open. I watched the world around me while simultaneously feeling held within another dimension. The boy didn’t speak, but I could hear him in my mind: “Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
And I didn’t.

The people who were hunting us passed right by, stepping over us as if we were invisible. They simply didn’t see us. The chanting had shielded us somehow, protected us.

Then something even more astonishing occurred. He showed me a thin booklet, like a pamphlet, and flipped through its pages. “There are six ways to become invisible,” he told me. “The most powerful is Soham.” He also said one can use Hamsa or Saha, but they are forms of the same practice. He mentioned the OM.

He then introduced another mantra: Sandhi. “Chant this,” he instructed, “and at the end, add Ram.”
So we chanted: I chanted Sandhi… and he would chant – Ram… Sandy … Ram…

With this mantra, the Samadhi deepened. The pressure in my chest intensified, yet the feeling was blissful, luminous. The room transformed into a temple, thick with vibration. My ears buzzed, my brain hummed, and my entire body crawled with energy.

The Gyan Mudra

At one point, I began to fade. I felt myself slipping. That’s when the boy deva looked at my hands and pinched my mudra, gently but firmly. “Hold the mudra tight,” he said. I did. The energy stabilised. I could keep going.

That moment revealed something profound:

Even while soaring beyond the mortal realm, the mudra protects our connection to the physical. It keeps us alive.

Eventually, he said softly, “You’re salivating. Let’s stop.” I looked down and saw that he was right. My mouth had filled with fluid. That was his sign.

Then, he smiled. Joyful. “You are the sixth person to attain this,” he said. He looked at me with shining eyes and asked, “Do you want to be a guru – a teacher?”

I was still buzzing with energy, still caught between worlds. I just said: “Yes… yes… yes.”

He pulled back the curtains, revealing that the walls were actually windows. Light poured in. It was radiantly bright, full of energy. A table appeared in the centre of the room. He began preparing the space joyfully, hopping around like an excited disciple. Then he called upon others, the gurus. And one by one, the masters came up to me and held my hands. They were all smiling and welcoming.

I sat in silence, observing him, still chanting inwardly. Part of me wanted to follow the unfolding story, to stay. But I made the choice to resurface. I felt my body calling me back. I was lying on my bed, in my usual meditation space.

The first thing I did was check the time. It was 3:43 AM, 29th of April 2024.
My tongue was resting gently against the hard palate—Nabho Mudra. I took a photo to remember the position. My jaw was tender, and my mouth full of nectar.

And still now, even as I write this, my body is crawling with energy.
Today is a special day. This was a special Samadhi. It felt just natural sharing this with you.